Burning Angel
by a mountain of gideon's scones
Summary: JaceClary. Fire can consume everything that's near and dear to them. Especially when it's from them themselves. For the Monthly Oneshot Challenge on Towers of Alicante R


_For the Monthly Oneshot Challenge on The Towers of Alicante_

_I don't own anything_

_Prompt: _"'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." -Alfred Lord Tennyson

_It's been a while since I read the books, so sorry for the discrepancies._

* * *

_Boom_.

The vibrations from the deep, almost guttural sound of the claxon from one of the mundane buildings startles them for a second, sending waves of adrenaline through Clary's body.

Her gaze rises to meet Jace's, her emerald green eyes piercing through the barriers in his eyes to release an almost molten gold, liquidating his eyes to the point where she can see every iota of emotion within him. His hands move slowly, in a controlled manner, to enclose over her own, more petite one, the warmth exuded causing the rest of her body to shiver. His grip seems so strong, so _safe_, as if when he's holding her, there's nothing that could possibly harm her in this world.

"Jace," she murmurs his name softly, taking a step closer to his body until she's merely centimetres away from touching him, the desire to reach out and press her fingers gently against his chest almost overwhelming her. She can barely stop herself reaching up to feel the silky smoothness of his dark blond hair, the incandescent ring of flames within him evident even to her weak eyes.

In the darkness of the night, the ebony night sky an opaque blanket of nothingness, he shines: a burning angel amidst a sea of non value, something inside of him having slipped for him to have lost his halo of innocence. There's something angelic about his appearance, the beauty of his face striking from a distance, yet he's no longer wholly pure; he's alight with passion, with a fire that could consume them both, a fuel of something so brilliant – yet so deadly.

Before she can say another word, his lips press down upon hers, the warmth spreading through to her lips, to her neck where he touches her, through into her fingertips as she runs her hands through his hair – everywhere where their bodies connect. He's a furnace, a source of energy (brilliance) that she fears will fade one day, result in an exploding supernova, the lustre within him shattered beyond repair.

Yet that's not the issue now, as she feels a connection between them, a tightening of some chords within her heart as his grip on her tightens; he's becoming a part of her heart that's permanent, irreplaceable and she's well aware that this is most likely just a one night thing for him.

(She's never had a boyfriend, so maybe this is why she's getting so attached to him.)

She smiles against his lips, a movement that has her reaching up and pulling him all the closer to her, sending urgency through her for some unknown reason. All she knows is that he's burning brighter than the sun, a ray of some incandescent source that stuns her beyond words – he's got the potential to be hers, forever, if she can only hold onto him for that long.

.:.

Of course, that would be aided if they weren't brother and sister, weren't of the same _blood_, wouldn't it?

.:.

It's a wrenching pain that drives from the centre of her chest as she looks at him with another girl, with Aline, as they sit in the house in Alicante. The only possible point of comparison, Clary thinks, is death: she can't imagine a life where she has to watch Jace be with someone else, watch his lips press to the other woman's for eternity. He's supposed to be _her_ angel, the kaleidoscope of colour in _her_ life, not Aline's; he was supposed to burn with her, to share his essence with _her_, not Aline.

Yet he can't, can he? He can't because they're _siblings_; there's a connection between them deeper than mutual adoration (because that's what it is, you know, a level of intensity so ingrained within them that it's impossible to remove without harming either one of them) because they're connected by _blood_. And the old saying is true: blood _is_ thicker than water; it's thick enough to throw a spanner within any of their plans for running away, for being Jace and Clary together, as an inseparable unit…no, now they're forced to be close to one another but never _together_.

As he's her brother and she's his sister and you can't _be_ with your sibling can you? That's incest, something that runs deep in their laws to be wrong – and even though she can't imagine living a life without him, she knows that she can never _be_ with him.

So she watches him kiss Aline, her fingers balling into fists as her face flames to be the same colour as her fiery red hair. This reminder of _his_ inner brilliance, the memory of that moment when it seemed as if the world could come crashing down as the angel fell from his highly place in the skies.

Because he can't leave with her anymore, can he? He can't be the amazing _oh so strong_ Jace Wayland any longer, merely because he's her _brother_, someone who she understands so well because they're of the same bloodline, and they've a shared core of fiery independence.

All she knows though, however, is that she'd rather have this – rather have loved him and lost him due to their situation, rather than never have had him.

(After all, how often do you get the chance to share in the experience of a burning angel?)

* * *

_Thanks for reading; I'd appreciate it if you didn't favourite without reviewing, thank you!_

_Vicky xx_


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